To the Light
by Little.Old.Lady007
Summary: AU Fanfic. After her mother's murder, Kate falls into drugs, sex and alcohol. One day she snaps and wakes up in the hospital persuaded she is Detective Kate Beckett engaged to Mystery Writer Richard Castle, the makings of her drugged out delusions. She tries to cope with what really happened while finding her way back to the man she unconsciously fell in love with.
1. Chapter 1

The woman rolled to her side, extending her forearm so it would rest, playfully stroking, on the chest of the man she loved. This movement was so mechanically incrusted into her brain; she woke up with a jolt when her arm fell lump to the side of the bed. Her arm dangling beside the bed, she carefully opened her eyes. She tried to adjust her sight to the unfamiliar surroundings of the dimly lit room she was in. She rolled back on her back observing the ceiling, her head was pounding with the millions of questions scattered about in her head.

When her eyes had adjusted and her head had finally stopped pounding, she finally sat up in the single bed she was in. Boy was she thirsty. Pulling off the covers and pivoting, she pressed her feet on the cold linoleum floor. Her outfit caught her attention. It wasn't exactly her idea of a convenient wardrobe choice; it wasn't even her idea of nightwear. The light blue sweatpants and white long-sleeved sweater were comfortable and warm, but they weren't hers or her fiancé's. Her breathing started to fasten; she really wasn't liking what she was seeing, she didn't recognise any of it.

_What's the last thing I remember? _

She searched for a clue, a memory, anything at all, but all she managed to do was let the pounding sensation and intense migraine come crashing back.

She lifted herself up, pushing herself with her arms off of the bed and quickly looked around the small room. Her legs felt extremely weak, her thighs slightly trembling under the weight of her own body. The bare walls of beige concrete blocks weren't her idea of an inviting decor and the small bed, nightstand and set of drawers weren't conveying anything good either, but what appalled her most was the resounding silence. She had long ago learned: silence was never of good omen.

Her eyes glided towards the closed door, she wasn't sure if her mind was making it up but she could swear she could detect some movement on the other side of the wall. Carefully moving closer to the small window, she distinguished something that looked like shadows. It definitely wasn't her mind playing tricks. If she concentrated long enough, light footsteps could be heard through the crack below the door. She directed herself towards the door as fast as her dulled out legs would take her and yanked on the knob.

The door was locked.

_Of course, I'm locked in this gloomy, gloomy looking room. _

Once more, her hands firmly pressed against her temples, she tried remembering.

_Come on Kate, just think. What were you guys working on? Were we following a lead? Chasing a suspect? Maybe I was kidnapped, held against my will. But by whom?_

She suddenly felt dizzy, the walls trying reposition themselves around her, the floor wobbly under her feet. Queasy, she closed her eyes and leaned on the wall, her hand carefully placed over her stomach.

_You have to go for it, Beckett. You don't know how long it's been. There's no time like the present._

Taking a chance and hoping for the best, she vehemently knocked on the door. Patting on the glass she tried to shout out "Help!" The words wouldn't come out; she could now unquestionably feel the dryness of her mouth and its roof. The thick saliva in her mouth was making it painful to swallow. As she gently massaged her throat, trying to cough, she caught a glimpse of someone, down the hallway. She tapped the window, mouthing "Help". The woman looked right at her, a small smirk on her face, but continued her way down the corridor, fastening her pace.

_Great. Excellent thinking, Kate. Amazing police work. They're probably discussing how to get rid of you right this instant._

She turned around, defeated, and sat back on the hard mattress, her head in her hands, shaking. She inhaled; she exhaled, trying to control her breathing.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

She heard the doorknob turn and she jumped to her feet as she saw the door open cautiously. She backed up against the wall furthest from the person who had just entered, and watched as the man closed the door behind him. She wanted to run, scream, and let him know he wouldn't get away with killing a member of the police force, but she froze.

"Good morning Katherine," he said as he sent a smile in her direction.

_Katherine? Who the hell calls me Katherine?_

Suspiciously eyeing the man, she desperately tried to piece things together, but everything was blank.

"I'm glad you're awake, but let's try to be more discrete, no more pounding on the door. It's still very early and I wouldn't want you to wake up the others." He was still smiling.

_The others? There are more of us here. They must also have Castle, maybe Espo or Ryan; I need to find a way out. God, can he please stop smiling like a psycho; he's seriously freaking me out._

The man could feel Kate's uneasiness caused by his presence. She was playing with her fingers, rocking her body back and forth, but at least she was up. Her eyes were locked on him. He wasn't even certain he'd seen her blink since he had entered her room, but at least she was acknowledging his presence, which was definitely welcomed progress.

"This is good, really good, Katherine. Today is a good day. It's the most receptive I've seen you in in months."

_We've been here for months? How? Where…_

Her eyes widened. Was it fear, anger or intrigue, he couldn't tell, but he was happy to see any change in her demeanor. He tried to encourage her to say what she was thinking.

She cleared her throat; hoping sounds would make their way out of her mouth this time. Her voice hoarse, she said, "Where are you keeping Castle?"

"I'm sorry, Katherine. I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. A castle?"

Coughing dryly, the man was surely playing with her, but her thoughts were unclear, everything a blur, so she continued, "Yeah. My… hummm. Rick… hummm. Richard Castle?"

"Oh, right," he tried to shorten the distance between them, taking a few steps in her direction, but when she tried to back up further against the wall, he backed away. There was no way he would be doing anything that might send the young woman back into her stupor. From a safe distance, he added, "Your dad told me you'd want to have them. He packed some for you. He was persuaded you'd want them with you when you came back to us. Check the night stand," his fingers motioning towards it.

_My dad? What does he have to with any of this? He's involved?_

How was it possible to be even more confused now, then when she had woken up? She frantically opened the drawer and sat back down on the bed, spreading out her latest findings. Incredulous, she stared at the books scattered before her: Death of a Prom Queen, Kissed and Killed, A Calm Before the Storm.

_What in the hell is going on?_

* * *

**I know this is kind of… weird? Popped in my head after my roommate told me she was happy my addiction limited itself to caffeine.**

**Please, please let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

He had been watching her for the last fifteen minutes, making himself as little and as silent as possible, mentally taking notes. She hadn't moved much in those minutes. The books she had found, her books, the ones she had asked him for, had caused a lethargic reaction in his young patient. He was amazed in the difference he was seeing from the women he had met with yesterday. She had been here for seven weeks. It had been seven weeks of silent sleep-walking dullness. He could make out the difference in her eyes, the glimmer that told him there was still someone inside, but he was afraid her mind was slowly going away again. He was hoping she'd fight. He cared for all his patients, but this young woman, she was different.

Katherine Beckett was the daughter of an old friend. He hadn't known her, her father and he had lost touch after university. He had shaken her hand at the funeral, but that was it. He could tell though, bare this woman of her demons and she could have been beautifully successful. The murder of her mother when she was barely 19 had caused this infernal descent to hell. She had stopped living, buried her head deep into denial and hadn't gotten up for a breath ever since. Some people were functioning addicts, she, without a doubt, was not. At 25, Katherine Beckett was a hard core addict, probably making it in his top 10 worst list.

When Jim had called him, asking for a favor regarding his little girl, the tremor in his voice was enough to make him accept. Never would Dr. Marx have imagined the saddened women he had met 6 years back, would have turned out like this. He had been taken aback, literally, backing a few steps when he had seen her. She was in a bad shape, her arms completely mutilated by the years of abuse, her medical file heavier than a brick. He would never acknowledge this to anyone, ever, but he was surprised that, at the rate she was going, she had survived this long. He was surprised she hadn't died of an overdose before turning the meager age of 22.

Now, she was responsive and he was anxious to see how the dependence had affected her mind. This early morning 'chat' was the first time he had heard the sound of her voice. Today, she had talked; she had moved. No matter how silenced she now seemed, it was still a good day.

Not wanting to startle her, he decided his best option for the moment was to simply let her be. As he carefully directed himself towards the door, her head jerked in his direction. He stopped and she stared.

After seconds, or maybe minutes, of stillness, she broke the silence, "This is a joke, right? I'm being punked?" Kate wasn't laughing, though, not even the hint of a smile could be perceived on her tired expression. She thought none of it was funny. If the guys were up to this; it was a sick, sick joke.

"No," answered the man sharing the room with her, as he slowly went on shaking his head.

"This… I… I…"she tried formulating a clear thought.

_Why is everything such a blur? I feel so powerless, so vulnerable. I hate this…_

"My dad… he's not involved in this. I mean, he can't…"

"Yes, he is. He's w-"

"I don't believe you," she said as she pulled on the collar of her sweater searching for the chain, craving the familiar touch of the ring she always kept safely around her neck. When her fingers brushed the bare skin of her sternum, her heart started pounding violently and her breathing became unequal. She nervously brushed her thumb over her ring finger, only to realise her engagement ring was gone too. She opened her mouth; her breaths were fast and loud, as her panic continued growing.

"You… You… You took my stuff." She was panicking, hysterically shifting her weight from one foot to the other, biting her lip to the point it would leave a mark. The man was observing her, analysing her reactions debating internally on how best to deal with her. How could he explain, when he didn't fully understand? Kate didn't appreciate the pause, threatened by the look.

_Stop staring dammit!_

Her tone had suddenly changed from panic to anger, "I don't understand. I want to talk to my fiancé, you can't do that. You can't keep me!" He could still perceive the slight hint of doubt portrayed in her tone.

When he tried to answer, it sent her over the edge. She could feel him, looking at her, puzzled, like they weren't even speaking the same language, and the last ounce of self-control she had managed to salvage was gone. With that, Kate seemed to regain full control of her voice. She exploded. "I want to leave. You can't detain me against my will. I want my things, my phone, my…."

"Katherine, let's talk this through."

"It's Kate, god dammit. There is _nothing_ to talk about. I won't let you, or anyone, detain me against my will. What the hell do you want from me?"

"It's okay, Kate. You're okay."

Something snapped. She jerked towards him, ready to strangle him, her legs were still wobbly but she didn't care.

The doctor, with a few paces towards the exit and a look to the hallway, motioned the nurses it was time to intervene. Two people rushed into the room. She was still screaming, her hands waving in space, about to stroke the man in front of her. One man grabbed her by the shoulders, containing her, while the other pulled down her pants. She screamed for mercy. Her eyes were bulging with terror and her body was contorting, trying to free itself of the tight grasp it was in. Missing a breath, she uncontrollably coughed, her lungs lacking oxygen, as she watched the man take a syringe out from his back pocket and stab her in the thigh.

Her breathing calmed down and she suddenly felt lightheaded as her eyelids became heavy. Fighting the urge to sleep, her head helplessly fell forward.

* * *

**I know the ages don't match, but this is because I don't think her father would have let her go on for 10+ years before doing something. Since they're delusions, I decided I could pretty much do what I wanted with it!**

**I opted for shorter chapters, but faster updates, but if you prefer longer chapters, let me know, it can be done!**

**Thank you all for the favs and follows. I really enjoy reading what you think, please continue reviewing, all comments welcome :) **


	3. Chapter 3

_This is a dream, only a dream. A really bad one, but it's just a dream. None of this is real. This is a dream, only a dream._

The woman had been unconsciously repeating this thought to herself, over and over again, as her eyelids flickered, reminiscent of REM sleep. She finally scurried up enough strength to lift her heavy eyelids and open her eyes, only to face the bare concrete blocks, once more. Realising she was in the same room, where she had woken up earlier, she breathed in deeply, biting the interior of her lip, as her eyes started to water.

_Snap out of it, Beckett!_

She tried to move, to get up, only to realise her wrists were contained, firmly stuck to the side of single bed. The tears a distant memory, she jerked the restraints with anger. Trying to control her breathing, she failed to repress the panic overcoming her. She pulled on her arms and twisted, unrealistically hoping to slide them out. Her heartbeat quickened, frustration building as she pulled harder and harder. As the tips of her fingers began to feel numb, she loosened her tug for a second. With rage she wriggled on the bed. With the help of her legs, her knees jerked up and her feet firmly planted on the bed, she gave a tug backwards hoping the force momentum would be enough to free herself from the confinement of the bed. The swaying caused the bed to move and its metal base bumped against the wall, creating a bang.

_Shit._

The sound hadn't been that loud, but it seemed amplified in the secluded environment as it echoed through her empty room and mind. Tied to the bed, she stopped moving and closed her eyes, hoping it would discourage any unwanted visitors. Scanning the door, with her eyes barely open, she spotted a woman peeking through the glass, and when her shadow disappeared, Kate could hear the distant sound of her heels clicking away.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

Moments later, the man she had tried to strangle entered her room as if nothing had happened. He was back in her proximity and she was stuck, stuck on this bed; she definitely couldn't defend herself. She was at his mercy, helpless and she definitely wasn't enjoying the feeling.

He was hiding his surprise that she was already awake; they had given her a strong dose. The doctor watched with empathy, silently cursing the events that had brought her here, to him, as she desperately tried to free herself from the bed.

He closed the door behind him and as the door clicked shut, she screamed, "You won't get away with this! You'll have the NYPD on your back if you don't let me go!"

Without a word, he bit the interior of his lip and let his back slide against the wall. He sat down on the floor facing the bed where she could see him and he waited. He waited for her to calm down; there really was nothing for him to do. It wasn't like reasoning with her when she was this agitated would do any one of them, any good. She squirmed and struggled with the constraints, but he could see the stress was getting to be too much for her frail, recently sedated body. Slowly she gave up, stopped struggling and just stared. Her gaze wasn't blank like it used to, it was powerful, determined.

Kate wasn't blinking, she was in a staring contest with her persecutor and there is no way she was going to let her eyes wander, she wanted him to know there was no messing with her.

Still sitting on the floor, trying to maintain the composure of his patient, he started, "Are you ready to talk now, Kate?"

"I don't know what you want from me," she answered dryly.

"I'm here to help y-"

"Doubt that, giving the fact that I'm presently tied to a bed." she quickly cut him off.

"It's for safety measures, Kate. Yours. And mine."

She lets out a fake laugh, "Ha. Safety. Shit... If that helps you sleep at night."

There is another silenced pause broken by the doctor when he felt it was safe to talk again.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Not like I'm going anywhere," she huffed.

"What do you think this is?"

She was now calmer, a quaint smile forming. She could do this; she just had to keep this up long enough for the guys to find her. He wanted her to talk, she would talk. "Revenge, ransom, torture, hostage takeover or anything along the lines of. But don't worry, I'll pull through. Always have, always will. You won't know what'll hit you." She was starting to get cocky.

_Pull it down a notch, Beckett. You're tied here, remember?_

He looks at her, nodding his head, "mm."

He got up and directed himself towards the woman; she was struggling on the bed, trying in vain to escape.

_Shit. Shit. Beckett. What did you do?_

"I'm Dr. Stephan Marx," he said pointing to the name tag on his blouse.

"And that's supposed to make me trust you? Everybody lies. Plus, do you know how many supposedly respected doctors I arrested for murder? Too many."

"So you're a police officer?"

"Detect-" she stopped, why was she engaging with him, he was obviously playing with her, trying to get her to lash out again.

"I'm going to show you something, Kate. Are you ready?"

_What the hell? Stop touching me!_

Her eyes widened as the man crouched beside her and slowly pulled the sleeve of her sweater up, revealing her forearm. She jumped, jerking her scarred arm away from her as she studied in terror the lesions and bruises caused by years of neglect. She furrowed her brow and opened her mouth slightly as her jaw twitched repeatedly.

_Eww. What? Oh my god! I can't. I don't. _

"What did you do to me?" she wept.

"Kate you did this to yourself. I just want to help you."

"I want my fiancé. I want to talk to Rick, why are you torturing me? I don't understand. Please. Please, please, please let me talk to him," she begged as she started sobbing uncontrollably. Her wrists were still constrained but her legs had crept up to her body, her knees folded close to her mid-section. The reminiscence of the sedative still pumping in her veins finally caught up with her as she cried herself to sleep.

* * *

**Any thoughts?**

**Kind of tired of this room. Maybe next chapter will be a flashback?**


	4. Chapter 4

After carefully closing the door to her room, he had marched back to his office for the first time of the day. It had been a long, long day and it wasn't even close to being finished. He directed himself towards the chair behind the massive oak desk and sat down. He leaned back, his arms behind his neck and he breathed in a couple of times. He closed his eyes letting the sizzling afternoon rays warm his face as took a moment for himself; he needed to get his spirits back before continuing. After a moment, he repositioned himself steadily in the chair and picked up the phone. Searching for the little yellow post-it in his desk and verifying the digits he had taken down, he composed.

After 2 rings the person on the other end of the call answered, "Hello?"

"Hey Jim, it's me. Ste-" the doctor started.

"Yeah. I know. I recognized you Marx. Is my daughter ok?" he asked even though he seemed to have given up. The doctor understood where the hopelessness was coming from, their last couple of conversations hadn't been easy and he felt bad for his friend. Jim sounded exhausted; he hadn't been sleeping well since his daughter had been committed. Steve, concerned for his well-being, had offered to write him a prescription for sleeping pills, but Jim had shrugged it off, so he didn't push it.

Steve was happy to be the bearer of good-_ish_ news today. "It's actually why I called. We spoke today. Nothing very coherent, but we spoke. It's a very big step in the right direction. I thought you'd like to know."

The doctor could make out a loud sigh of relief on the other end. "You don't know how happy I am to hear you say that. So, this means she's doing better?" His tone seemed lighter, to great pleasure of Dr. Marx. This man hadn't had the easiest past couple of years.

"She's engaging which is a very good sign, but I can't tell you she's not confused. I'm hopeful, though." The doctor had chosen to omit some of the events of the day. He wasn't lying, but there was no need to worry the man even more.

"Thank you. Thank you so much Stephan. I should have come to you sooner. I should never have let it get that bad. I never…"

"This is not your fault, Jim. None of this is."

"Oh, but it is. I should never have…" and his voice wandered off, he was clearly lost in his thoughts.

* * *

3 YEARS AGO.

As he heard the sound of clinking keys, he could make out the movements of someone clearly struggling to unlock the front door. He jumped from the couch. Approaching the entrance, he watched as his daughter came through the door. He was still slightly startled by her looks, he could never get used to it. He could barely recognise his girl with smudged up make-up, tussled hair and a skirt that was barely long enough to cover her butt.

He wasn't sure yet _how_ this would all pan out, but he wouldn't let her flee the confrontation like she always managed to do. They were going to talk. _Tonight_. He quickly approached her the relief predominant in his voice, "God, Katie. You had me worried sick. Where were you?"

"I was out," she answered as she tugged on her heels, one of her hands steadily pressing on the wall beside her, needing its help to prevent herself from falling over.

"No kidding you were out. You've been _out_ for 2 days. I was about to call the cops, Kate," he suddenly sounded angrier. He loved her, but she was seriously pushing his buttons.

"Geez, dad, just relax," she said as she finally managed to bare her feet from the heels and headed towards the bathroom.

She had him wrapped around her little finger from the day she was born, but that was it. He had waited; he had tried to be patient. He knew her mother's death had been hard on her, but enough was enough. He grabbed her by the arm, making her turn around towards him and halting her route. "Sit down," he commanded as he pointed the couch.

She rolled her eyes and smirked. "What's this about, dear old dad?" she asked as she approached her face from his, their noses barley an inch away, and pinched his cheek, like this was all a joke.

Looking into those green eyes, he suddenly lashed out, "You're high again, aren't you?"

"So?" she answered with defiance but avoiding his stare.

"Katherine Houghton Beckett, this has to stop. It has to stop right now. I can't take it anymore. I was fine with you dropping out of Stanford and coming back home after your m-"

"Don't." she loudly cut off with rage, but he was still not letting go of the grasp he had on her wrist.

"It's been almost 2 years, Katie. And what are you doing? Nothing. You need to get a grip, make something useful of yourself."

"I'm 22, dad. Nothing wrong with having a little bit of fun."

"Bringing random jackasses in my house every other day is NOT a little bit of fun, Katherine. It's plain disrespect. Getting high daily is NOT a little bit of fun. It's dangerous and reckless, especially considering the crowd you're hanging out with." he uttered. "I have nothing wrong with a little bit of fun, but this is not what _this_ is," he continued as his hand pointed towards her.

As she was about to storm off, he tugged her towards the couch and sternly said "Sit."

When he gave her a little push so she'd fall back on the couch, a small bag fell out of her skirt's pocket. They both watched as the bag hit the living room carpet. Kate slightly moved her feet over so it would be concealed from his view, but he had already seen it. Calmly removing her foot, he picked it up and closed his eyes. For a couple of seconds he concentrated on his breathing. The girl was going to be the death of him.

"Coke? You're doing cocaine now?" he roared out, clearly those breathers hadn't calmed him down, _at all_.

"It's nothing dad."

"Nothing? Seriously? You have got to be kidding me here, Katherine" he was riled up now. He wished Johanna was here, she would have known how to handle this. He could already feel himself losing his cool. "Who? Who gave this to you?" he screamed as he shook the drugs in her face. "Samuel? Brandon? Harrison? Or one of the other 20 low-life guys that've passed through here this month?"

"You're making me out as a slut, dad!"

"Taking drugs, random guys. This isn't you, Kate."

"Maybe this is me, the new me."

"Katie, this is it. You either get your life under control or you're out. There will be no drugs in my house, do you understand?"

"Fine!" she bawls out as she grabbed her purse and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door on her way out.

To this day, Jim wished this conversation would have ended differently.

* * *

PRESENT DAY

Heading to the common room area, he decided to take a slight detour to walk past Kate's room. He needed to make sure she was okay. He had told the nurses to take the constraints off after she had fallen asleep again and he hoped it had been a good call. As, he peaked through the glass, he was surprised to find her sitting on the bed, cross-legged.

As he opened the door and peaked his head in, she looked at him, faked a smile and said, "Hey, Doc. I think I'm ready to talk."

* * *

**Any thoughts? Complaints? Ideas?**

**I know it's a slow start... hope you guys still continue reading :)**


	5. Chapter 5

She had fallen asleep crying, begging for him and there he was, in her vicinity once more. Watching him from afar, she smiles. She's standing on the sidewalk, squinting her eyes as she recognises the back of his head through the window of the coffee shop, _their_ coffee shop. She grins at the way he runs his hand through his hair, a movement he unconsciously does when he is feeling stressed out. Her heart beat quickens as she starts walking towards the door.

She wants to run, to go jump up in his arms. She wants to let her hands run through his hair, her fingers caressing the outline of his jaw as his blue eyes meet her hers. Most of all, she wants the proximity of his body on hers, the warmth of his chest, the smell of his cologne overpowering her as their tongues familiarly dance, but she can't. Kate doesn't seem to have any control over her movements, she feels like a spectator in her own body. Her movements automatic, she pulls on the door and it dings, making her entrance known.

When he turns around towards the direction of the noise, a younger version of the man she was marrying stands before her. The way he looks right through her, forcing a polite smile makes her heart sink. He doesn't know her. Their shoulders brush as he hurries out of the shop, 2 travel mugs in his hands. Breathing heavily, she takes a step forward, closing the distance between her and the barista, staring at her feet.

The step makes Kate fumble over a door that crashes open to reveal a small crammed bathroom. She can hear music loudly thumping in the background. Tumbling behind with her are 3 other people, one of them manages to catch her by the waist before she hits the linoleum floor. They're laughing and all four of them are talking loudly to bury the loud music. There movements are sluggish and their conversations lack sense. The tall blond lets go of waist after gently kissing her temple and the small brunette giggles as she locks the wooden door behind them.

These people feel vaguely familiar, but she couldn't tell who any of them are. The giggling girl looks at them with a mischievous smile and takes out something buried deep in the pockets of her skin tight jeans. Kate's had some rebel days, but she had always managed to stay away from drugs. She's taken aback by the cocaine in the girl's hand. Why would she be hanging out with these people? Kate was always down to kick down a few with the guys, but this? The brunette spreads the powder out on the counter. The second guy gets behind her and his head over her shoulder, his hands around her, he pulls out his credit card and divides the powder into four shallow bands.

The white lines stand out over the dark counter top and Beckett watches the scene unfold before her eyes. She anticipates what comes next, but doesn't approve of it. There is no way out of this situation as she isn't the one controlling the ship that is her body. As the brunette pulls a dollar bill from her bra and rolls it, she snorts a line. Closing her eyes with delight and inhaling loudly, she passes her the bill, "Becks?"

She tends her arm to grab the dollar and the blond guy smiles at her and wiggles his eyebrows as he bits his lower lip. He grabs her ass and using his hand positioned on her behind, pushes her forward. Kate takes the roll from the girls hand and approaches the counter with purpose. She bends her head over the counter bringing the bill to the entrance of her nostrils. She closes her eyes as she sucks in and feels the sting of the drugs traveling through her nasal cavities.

She shoots back her head and when she opens her eyes she's in a different environment. It's silent and dim. It's hot in the room. She sits up on the mattress and pulls the dulled out comforter from over her to reveal a man, bare chest, on her side. She can't believe she's just realising his presence, he snores like something out of this world.

She pulls her knees to her chins and observes the man. He has a blue elastic band tied around his bicep and the pattern of his arms indicates he's a regular user. Looking upon the foot of the mattress she spots the spoons, the lighters and the needles scattered about on the floor of the messy bedroom. She lets her tongue snap on her teeth and he pushes the man to his side.

Running her hand through her face, she slowly gets up and exits the bedroom.

Passing through the arc of the door, she takes a step forward and lands face to face with the one and only, Richard Castle. He's seated in front of her, piles of books on his sides.

Looking up to her with his gorgeous baby blue eyes, he asks politely, "Hi, thanks for coming. Who do I make this out to?"

She stutters a bit as she finds the words she's looking for, "Could you make it out to Johanna. You were my mom's favorite…"

She doesn't finish her thought as she suddenly feels queasy. With her hand over her stomach, she closes her eyes and takes a few steps back as bright spots blind her vision. He's quick to his feet, violently pushing away his chair. His hand is supporting the small of her back, the other cupping her elbow. She's breathing heavily, trying to control her urge to vomit. She lightly turns her head towards his face and smiles shyly. He's so close to her, she can feel his touch, his warm. She's stay like this forever.

Kindly, he asks, "You don't look so well miss. Want me to call anyone for you, your husband maybe?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine, Mr. Castle."

"My friends call me Castle," he answers with a charming wink.

She smiles but the spots get brighter and suddenly her knees buckle and she falls limply in his arms, out of consciousness.

Everything is dark. Her heart is pounding as if it wants to get out of her chest. She can feel the bed under her body; she can feel the pressure on her biceps, they're hands, fingers. "Katie?"

She could feel the light shake of her body as her head wobbled helplessly. "Katie!"She could perceive the worry in her dad's voice but she couldn't get herself to open her eyes.

"Dammit, Kate just open your eyes!" he was now shaking her a bit harder. "Katie, you can't be fuckin' going this to me."

When he lets go, her body falling back limply on the mattress she can feel nothing. He's gone, leaving her with only blackness, total blackness. She hears the faint sound of footsteps approaching and she feels the shock as cold water splashes onto her face.

She woke up in a jolt, panting, realising she's still in the room surrounded by the concrete block walls. She knew she'd slept but she didn't feel replenished, she felt exhausted.

_What the hell was that? _

She wanted some answers. Hell, she _needed_ some answers. She sat on her bed and waited, someone was bound to come check on her sooner or later. She was thinking about reaching out for a book as she waited, but advised against it. When the doctor peaked his head in the room, she smiled, a token that she wouldn't lash out like earlier. As calmly as she possibly could at this moment in time, she stated, "Hey Doc, I think I'm ready to talk."

* * *

**This has to be the hardest thing I've ever written hope it translates how I pictured it. I wanted Beckett to have a feel for her real life. PM or review if you have ways to these sequences.**

**I feel the need to explain because I'm not sure it makes any sense. Flashbacks in dream sequences, she's reliving parts of her life. Action/Dialogue happened, thoughts are present day Beckett's.**

**Flashbacks are not in any kind of order. Beckett's confused only fitting you'd be as well ;)**

**Please share your thoughts, ideas even complaints! They make me happy :)**


	6. Chapter 6

The sun was a couple of hours past its prime. Silently, they watched as the clouds danced around in the sky. Upon her request, Kate and the psychiatrist had retreated from the conditioned air of the concrete structure. The confinement of the four walls was making her dizzy. She couldn't bear to look at the naked room for another second. Following her lead, the doctor had sat down in the grass next to her, on the small parcel of land that was fronting the tall building they had left. With her knees up and her chin resting upon them, her hands were hugging around her legs. Kate was gently rocking her body back and forth, her mind obviously somewhere else.

The silence had lasted a couple of minutes and Dr. Marx checked his watch subtly. He wanted nothing more than to talk, understand what had been going on in that head of hers, but if she wasn't ready, he wasn't going to push. He had rescheduled everything he possibly could for her, but there were some things he still needed to get to. He had other patients and when working with mentally unstable individuals, the one this he always wanted to provide them was consistency. As he watched the hand on his watch tick, he felt he was running out of time. Hoping he wasn't being to bold, he asked gently, "Kate, I know this is difficult for you, but you told me you wanted to talk."

She huffed loudly and she rolled her eyes as she said, resigned, "I know."

She turned her face slightly towards him, her eyes pleading, and added, "I just don't know where to start. It's so…" She let the thought die out without being able to properly formulate it.

"Let's start with: how are you feeling?"

After paused reflection, she answered, "Confused." Her thumb and index brushed her eyebrows and she left them there, stretching the skin above her eyes as she shook her head, "So fucking confused."

"It's a good starting point. What's confusing you?"

"Everything," she closed her eyes as her hand descended to cover her mouth. With a slight tremor in her voice and tears filling the corners of her eyes, she continued, "I can't even tell who I fucking am anymore." Fleeing his stare, she bit the inside of her lip as her chest's erratic movements betrayed her.

"Kate, you have to help he understand. I want to help."

She wanted to be helped, really she did. She just didn't know how to explain without sounding like a complete lunatic and embarrassing herself. She paused and thought for a second. Resolute, she started, "I had these flashes earlier, these fragments of a life that can't possibly be mine. They don't_ feel_ like mine. But then I look at myself and I look at this place, at you…My guess is I'm not really a homicide detective."

He smiled at her, cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezing it. "You need to take this process slowly, Kate."

"This is so fucking frustrating. I want it to stop." She wailed as she ran her hands through her hair and closed her eyes. "I can't really remember anything after… you know… _it_. It's just so messed up."

"It's okay, I'm sure you will. You managed _a lot_ today. You need to not overburden yourself. Don't pressure yourself, it will come back eventually. You need to concentrate on getting better. Okay?"

She smiled shyly and nodded.

"What do you think happened after you know... it?"

She shook the hand off her and slowly lowered her head until her forehead was lying on her knees. She wasn't ready to talk about it. This life, it may have been in her head but it was all she had. It felt real and she wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

She would have been unable to say how long she had been there. She had managed to supress the sounds surrounding her until a hand landed on her shoulder, gently shaking her. She reluctantly got her head back up and stared at the man standing beside her and Dr. Marx told her, "Kate, I really need to get going. But if you want to stay outside I can call a nurse to come stay with you. Would you want that?"

"No it's fine. I'll go back up with you. Thanks, Doctor," she answered and managed to smile.

He held out his hand and she took it, helping her to her feet. They went back inside, crossed the lobby and called the elevator. The doors opened and they let two people out before entering. She watched as the doctor pushed on the 12. The doors closed and they started moving up.

She shook her head as the memory of the 12th twirled in her brain. Placing a hand on her stomach, she declared, "I'm really hungry."

He smiled at the remark and checked his watch. "There should be snacks in the common area. I'll drop you off there."

* * *

The assortment of fruit on the table had her mouth watering. Her stomach growled and she tried to remember the last time she had eaten, which, of course, rendered useless. She plated a couple of pieces of melon and a couple of berries before sitting down on a sofa chair. She let her glare sweep across the room to the people scattered going about their business, more or less paying any attention to her. Some eyed her reproach, others with anxiety, but most just didn't seem to notice her. She observed the people around her.

_Yup. I'm in the crazy house. I. Am. In. The. Crazy House. Jesus freakin' Cr-_

Suddenly breaking her out from her stupor a woman exclaimed from behind her, "Hey, girl! You seem to be doing particularly well today."

The relief overpowered the surprise as Kate quickly turned around towards the sound of the familiar voice. With her eyes in awe, her heart pumping with excitement and a smile creeping up her face, she beamed out, "Lanie?" as she resisted the urge to jump up and hug the familiar face.

The woman was wearing scrubs and pushing a cart. She seemed genuinely happy with Kate's enthusiasm, as she answered with a smile, "It's Lory, actually, but close enough. Didn't think you were really listening to me blabbing about." She took Kate's hand in hers and let the contents of a small plastic cup fall to her palm.

Kate reluctantly eyed the 3 pills in her hand before asking, "What's this?"

"Just your meds, honey. Go on take them they're good for you," the nurse answered with a smile. "Water?"

Kate shook her head as she brought her palm to her lips.

* * *

**Thoughts? Comments? Ideas? Complaints?**

**I'm thinking of doing a **_**somewhat **_**lighter chapter next. Who thinks Kate should get a roommate? Or maybe befriend fake Lanie?**


	7. Chapter 7

The nurse smiled at her as she went to continue her rounds, pushing the medicine cart towards the next patient. Beckett's eyes must have been the clear window to her emotions, because without even saying it, without even moving her body, Lory seemed to know. The woman seemed to see, to understand the distress in her eyes, the yearning in her body, the desire for something finally familiar. A couple of feet away, the woman in scrubs paused and smiled. She put her index finger up and with a wink; Lory announced she'd be back. For the first time in this long tumultuous day, Kate seemed to relax as she buried her body in the sofa.

Kate had closed her eyes, trying not to think about how messed up all of this really was, still not fully understanding its implications. A couple of minutes later, Lory came back, free of the cart, as she extended her hand to Kate, asking with her friendly tone, "So girl, how about I show you around?"

"I'd like that. It would be nice," answered Kate with a shy smile as she took the hand offered to help her to her feet.

"Good," added Lory, a smile beaming, as both woman stood face to face. The smaller woman hooked their arms together and started walking pulling Kate with her.

Together, their arms tied, they walked through the common areas. The walked across the sofas; the bypassed the food; they looked through the windows and they saluted the people they met. Lory was talking, the familiar voice, the expressions, the nicknames, all appeasing to Kate. She explained the procedures, how they operated there. Kate was introduced to people, doctors, nurses, patients, some of them who already seemed to know her, some of them even felt familiar. But for the most part, Kate felt like it was her first time there.

The tour of the common areas was over, but Kate was holding on to the woman like someone would cling to its lifejacket after being thrown in the river. She was swimming in rapids and there had been no rock to hold on to until the friendly face had come along. She was not ready to let go.

They walked through the corridors, up and down, Lory talking and Kate listening. When it had been clear to the nurse, that Kate wasn't ready to let go just yet, she had started talking. She talked about everything and anything, about the weather, about her cat, about her boyfriend who she'd fought with the night before and Kate was more than grateful to have an escape from her own thoughts.

Turning her face towards the tall woman at her arm and smiling, Lory jokingly stated, hoping to get a few words out of the woman, "I always thought you were a good listener, girl, hope I'm not boring you with all this relationship mumbo-jumbo."

Kate smiled, her first genuine smile of the day, at the women and shook her head, "I'm grateful, actually."

They changed corridors and passing in front of the nurses' station, Lory waved at her co-workers. Kate did her best to smile at them.

Leaving the desk behind them, as they continued their walk, Kate still could make out the murmuring of one nurse to the other. "Poor girl, so much stress. I guess, he finally managed to get her meds right. Did you hear about her-"

The rest of the conversation was lost to her as Lory unhooked their arms and extended her arm around Kate's shoulder, bringer her closer. Their shoulders were colliding and Lory put her hand over her ear and laid the taller woman's head over her shoulder. Kate wasn't ready to hear that, and silently, she cursed at the other women for their lack of compassion. This kind of stress was exactly what had had her snap in the first place.

Kate was surprised, by the gesture, but she leaned into it. She couldn't tell if that was what finally made it click, but finally, she was over the denial stage, slowly tending to acceptance. She trusted the woman and even though she knew Lanie and Lory weren't one, when she looked at that face, she saw a friend. A confidant to whom she could finally say what was going on in her head. "Hey Lory, tell me something. How long have I been here?"

The nurse smiled, nodding, "How about we talk over coffee?"

Kate's eyes lit up to the mention of her drink of choice. Coffee would be great. Coffee would be awesome, actually.

The nurse's smile grew even bigger at Kate's reaction. They both halted and double-backed.

Stopping beside what looked like the entrance to an office, Lory told her, "Wait here," as she knocked. Kate waited beside the arch of the open door, leaning on the wall observing her surroundings and listening.

Even though the voices where hushed whispers, she could still make out most of the conversation going on, on the other side of the wall.

"Lory, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, just yesterday…" Kate could hear the doctor's muffled voice from where she was standing.

"We'll just go to the downstairs visitor's cafeteria. Look Steve, she needs this. It will be good for her."

Doctor Marx sighed in acceptance and Kate was grateful.

They had sat down, and Kate felt safe, safer than she had in a very long time, so she talked. She wasn't even sure any of it actually made sense but she needed everything out. She talked about Castle; she talked about her job as a homicide detective. She told her about waking up here about realising she wasn't the person she thought she was and it was Lory's turn to listen. The woman was doing a magnificent job at it, commenting when needed and squeezing her hand when she thought she was going to lose it. Finally everything seemed aired out and Kate was out of breath.

The hot beverage was in her hand, she took a sip. It wasn't as good as Castle's, it was horrible actually but it was coffee. The taste reminded her of the coffee at the precinct before Castle had bought that fancy espresso machine. She quickly brushed the though away. None of it had happened. She wasn't Beckett, the badass detective. She was Kate, the psychotic addict.

It was time to admit it. Her breathing was fast and loud, "I'm an addict?" She wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement when it came out, but punctuating the words in her mind, she knew them to be true. With that, she had taken the first step towards her recovery.

"I'm an addict and it seriously messed me up. It's been seven weeks. That's seven weeks where I imagined myself a successful detective. That's seven weeks I don't remember. And given the fact that the years previous aren't exactly clear in my head. I really am at home here, am I? I'm going crazy. No, I'm not, I already am."

"You're not going crazy, Kate. You're actually coming back."

"I thought I was engaged to Richard freakin' Castle. I was sure of it. Now tell me that's not crazy talk!"

Thoughts? Comments? Complaints?

I know it's been a long time, but I've been really busy. This story is really hard to write, so please let me know if you're still there. Tell me if you like or not so I know if I should continue, I won't take it personally!


	8. Chapter 8

**The moment of self-doubt is over now. Thank you all for helping me through it, now let's not talk about it anymore. ;)**

**I tried to follow some of your advice, so summary has been updated as well as the genre. **

**For those Caskett fans out there (everyone I presume, how could you not?), Castle will, at one point, enter this story, I promise. (Next Chapter)**

* * *

He was slipping away from her, as much as she tried to hold on, he was slipping away from her.

Over the next few weeks, Kate tried, as best one can, to settle into her new placid routine. Breakfast, group therapy, arts and crafts, lunch, yard, therapy, diner, free time and repeat, over and over again. She felt as though she was in prison. She wasn't made for this life, she wasn't meant to be in here.

She understood she had a problem, and it became clearer and clearer every day, as certain memories came flooding back. She had needed help, she just wasn't sure she could handle it, any of it.

Every day, she took her meds was a day where a little more of the life she wished she'd had flew away from her. He was slowly disappearing and replacing him were the memories of the things she wished she hadn't done, of the things she wished she hadn't said. He was slipping away from her. Every night she went to bed alone, she craved his touch a little more. Every night she stayed in this place, she woke up feeling just a little bit lonelier.

She now had a clearer picture of what the last five years of her life had been like, but she wished she hadn't. Some blimps of her life were clear as day, some were still a blur. She couldn't manage to uncover the last few months of her life. She could feel it, something had made her snap out of reality, something had made her psychotic. She had a problem before, but something had made her crazy. Still, she couldn't seem to grasp it. She had tried, she had asked, but her psychiatric, never really answered her questions. It was frustrating. She was frustrated.

Some days she desperately wanted the answers but most of the time though, she wished she hadn't remembered any of it; she wished he'd stayed, that they'd stayed. She understood, but she wanted to grasp at those delusions for as long as she could.

She now had more images of herself shoving needles down her veins, of slurred, incoherent speeches, of exchanging sexual favors against crack and waking up in puddles of her own puke than she had of him, his eyes, his smile, his touch. Her life was slowly coming back to her and somehow, she wished she could shove it back into a box and never think about it again, like none of it had ever happened. She desperately tried to hold onto him.

She hated herself, and she hated her life. She wanted it back.

It was 9 am, Thursday morning of her 10th week. It had already been a couple of days since she had started to. She was seated where she always was at this time of day, like clockwork, just waiting for the cocktail to be delivered. The nurse gave her the cup and she brought it to her lips like she always did; only she didn't swallow. She shoved the pills in the corner of her mouth and pretended to.

She must have done a poorer job than she had expected because unlike the previous days, the nurse eyed her weirdly as he walked over to the next patient. Glad he hadn't lingered and applauding her chance, she slowly got up, but quickly turned away from Nurse Tristan.

As she took a step in the opposite direction, Tristan was beside her in a matter of seconds, "Kate, I'm going to need you to swallow those pills."

She turned around and looked in his pleading eyes. She hesitated because somehow, she knew none of it was rational.

_Kate just swallow. Just take them._

But she didn't. She couldn't.

Loneliness, fear and revolt came barging in as she vigorously shook her head, tears uncontrollably streaming down her cheeks.

"Kate?" the doctor called out as he stormed into the common room area, someone having tipped him off.

The nurse was still by her side, holding on to her forearm when Dr. Marx got to her. She was trying to catch her breath, trying to control the sobbing, wiping away the streaks with the back of her hand. He told the nurse he'd deal with her as he motioned him to leave them and gather the curious faces her meltdown had attracted before she caused a riot among the more instable ones.

He faced Kate when he added firm but friendly, "I don't want to. But believe me, Kate, if I have to I'll make you take them."

She shook her head again, trying hard to contain the tears and control the quiver of her lips.

"Kate, don't make me do this."

"No. Please. Wait." Her words were punctuated by sobs and hiccups.

She spit them out of her mouth, the bitter taste catching up, they were slowly disintegrating at the bottom of her cheek. She looked at the slobbery pills nested in her palm with distain. "Please, don't. I don't need them anymore. I don't want them anymore."

Watching the scene unfold, the nurse was ready to bounce back. The doctor once more gestured him to stop. The woman had been through enough, even without the anti-psychotics, he felt he could reason with her. Blunt force was only a last resort, he needed to understand; he needed her to trust him.

"You have to take them, they're helping you. You've been-" He gestured, gently pushing her palm back to her mouth.

"No!" She shouted as she threw the pills to the floor, her sobbing gaining in volume. "No!"

"Why, Kate?" he asked. Everything had been going well ever since the morning 3 weeks ago, too well it seemed.

"I have to go back. I have to go back!"

He waited a couple of seconds silently for her to calm down.

Her breathing was still loud, but it was slower, when she added, a little more controlled, "I want to go back. I just want him back."

"Kate we've already talked about your delusions. They're not real. They're only in your head."

"They feel real and that's enough for me. Do you have any idea how much _real_ sucks right now?"

"It doesn't have to, Kate."

She pondered on the thought a minute, biting on her lower lip.

"I… I… I was in_ love _with him."

* * *

**Sorry, it's short. Little **_**Lost**_** quote there. ;)**

**Thoughts? Comments? Complaints?**


	9. Chapter 9

"I love him."

It was all she knew right now, all she could feel. Everything else was hazy, intangible, but this, those feelings, they powered through. She wasn't ready to let go; she didn't think she'd ever be. She understood most, if not all of it, was in her head, but she didn't care. She didn't want to hear it; reality was overrated.

She had crumbled to the floor as the words resounded, deep into her subconscious. She loves him, present tense. There were movements around her, but she didn't see. There were voices around to her, but she didn't hear. Everything surrounding her, suddenly, was a blur.

Strong arms supported her elbows, getting her to her feet. She felt limp. Grabbing her waist they managed to get her to the psychiatrist's office and sit her on the couch. The door closed behind them and Dr. Marx looked into her vacant eyes.

She was still there; the woman he had gotten to know over the last few weeks was still there. He could see it, the sparkle of life in her hazel eyes that wasn't visible during her first weeks in his care. He hadn't lost her, she was still there, but he felt horribly bad, horribly wrong.

He should have known they would come to this. He should have anticipated this reaction ever since the mention of Richard Castle, the fiancé, on her first day back. He had been afraid, afraid she wasn't ready yet, that she wasn't strong enough yet. He just knew when she finally remembered that day; everything else would come crashing back. He had been afraid, but he had undermined the feelings she had developed for the man. He couldn't have known the moment they had shared would evolve to this.

He should have become a cardiac surgeon; it would have been so much easier. The mind is such a complex tool. He had thought that, as her own memories replaced the delusions; her longing for him would dissipate. The images of the man were slipping away from her, but the feelings were not. He had been wrong.

The glimmer in her eyes gave the doctor hope he could still get to her, make her cope. It was time. He started talking; hoping the topic would at one point, make her want to start listening.

"Your father and I were roommates our first year of college, we were 18. You arrive in a new city, with no one you know, you bond with your roommate fairly quickly. So we became quick friends. Even though we both had crazy schedules, with him in pre-law and me in pre-med, we would hang out a lot. I was there when he met your mother. Johanna was a beauty. And when I say beauty, I'm not talking only about her looks; she was smart and kind which made her even more beautiful. I can't say it's where they met but, we were at a party and she caught your father's eye, how could she not, right?"

He smiled at the memory and watched as Kate's eyes seemed to liven up.

"Your father was a shy fellow. It took him a long while for him to finally go up to her and talk. He would keep me up at night talking about her. He was such a girl. He'd probably deny it now, though. By second year, they were friends, but he still hadn't asked her out. I kept pushing him, telling him to go for it but he didn't want to lose their 'friendship'. That year we got assigned new roommates. Even though we tried to hang out, it wasn't the same. I didn't even know he had finally made the move until I saw them one day together in the park."

"She's the one that asked him out," Kate mumbled.

He smirked, "Makes a lot of sense. A couple of years later, I got an invitation in the mail for the wedding of James Beckett and Johanna Davis. I wasn't surprised; they were perfect for each other. Then, they had you. If you weren't the cutest baby out there, I don't know who is."

To that, Kate managed to smile faintly.

"We seemed to lose contact after that. A few Christmas cards here and there, but nothing much. I read about it in the newspaper, about her murder. It hit me like a ton of bricks."

Kate swallowed and bit her lips together.

"After almost 19 years, I saw my friend again, at his wife's funeral. He cried and I held him, knowing there was nothing I could do for him. Then, I met you. I shook your hand and looking into your eyes, suddenly, I was back in college with 19 year old Johanna."

The glistening in her eyes was bringing tears into his. He coughed, trying to shake it off. This conversation was the definition of being 'too close to it.'

"Your father was broken, heartsick, but when I shook your hand, I could feel it, everything you had bottled up."

Her breathing was heavier, but he continued.

"You didn't want to deal with it. So you hid. At first you hid in meaningless relationships, one night stands and parties, but soon, it wasn't enough. Your mom was bubbling back to the surface and you needed to bury her, needed to forget about it so it would stop hurting. So you did. And quickly, you couldn't stop anymore. You didn't just need them to forget, you needed them to be able to put one foot in front of the other."

She was burying her face in her hands, but he continued.

"Your father was my friend. There was nothing I could do regarding his grief over your mother, but I could try to help his grief regarding you. You couldn't get out. You were stuck and it became dangerous. You overdosed, got hospitalised and then did it all again. He loves you, he always will. Twice he called me, and twice I came. A year and a half ago, the first time-"

She looked up. "I," she swallowed, "I remember."

He nodded, "The first time, you were 24 and you were in such a bad shape, I wasn't sure there was anything I could do for you, but I had to try. We talked but you-"

"I know," she added dryly.

He nodded again, "For a year you multiplied your near death experiences with no regards to your life. That is, until a couple months ago I presume."

She looked at him pensively.

"Two and a half months ago, your father called me again, in tears. It was the second time I'd seen him cry. I rushed to the hospital and prepared for the worst. Physically, you looked much better. I could tell something had changed in you for the best, but sitting on that hospital bed, your mind had found another way to avoid."

Her eyes were watering, and he couldn't tell if it was because she finally remembered that day and the ones preceding it or not.

"Your mind blacked it all out, _everything_ you didn't want to deal with. It's when the delusions started to take over. Are you ready to talk about them?"

She nodded shyly, her voice barely a whisper, "I just wish you'd stop calling him that."

"It's what they are, Kate, _delusions_, what else would you want me to call them?"

She shrugged her shoulders and remained silent, a single tear streaming down her cheek.

"You couldn't deal with how you handled yourself after mother's murder, so you became the detective that was going to solve her murder, bring her justice."

She nodded, emotions backing up in her throat as she asked, "Why then? Why him?"

He couldn't know for sure, why him, why her attachment to him had grown so strong but he knew where it had all started, why it had all started. Even though he was afraid of her reaction, he had waited long enough. He had wanted her to remember him on her own, without the little push, when she was mentally ready. Now, it was time for her to remember, _everything_, regardless of the consequences.

He got up and went to the closet in the corner of the office. Unlocked the door and pulled out a book, her book.

"I wanted you to feel a bit better before you had this one," he said as he handed her the copy of Storm Rising.

She took it uneasily and placed in on her lap, unopened. She stared at it, her heart was beating fast and she didn't fully understand why. She opened the book, reading the autographed note on the first page.

Suddenly, it flashed before her eyes.

_Flashback_

_10 weeks ago_

_Her eyes fluttered open and were greeted by his worried blue ones. He smiled, relieved as he managed to help her back onto her feet, still supporting the small of her back._

_She exhaled loudly by her mouth, but the nausea had passed. She felt better. She smiled back, their eyes not letting go of each other as she voiced a, "Thank you, Castle."_

"_No problem Ms..." _

"_Beckett," she added nodding._

_Her heart was beating like crazy. She had been a hard core fangirl ever since her mother had introduced her to the books, but this was more than the rush adrenaline you get when meeting your favorite author. From the way he was looking at her, Kate could tell he wasn't indifferent either. He continued to smile at her, their eyes locked into each other's like they were the only ones in the store, when a hand tapped on his shoulder._

_Abruptly breaking eye contact, much to Kate's dismay, he turned around "What, Gina?" he asked sharply._

_Gina pretended to whisper, but loudly enough so Kate would hear, "She's fine Rick. Look at her, the girl looks like trouble. Just get on with the book signing, call her an ambulance if she wants. But there's a lot more people here to see you." _

_The publisher eyed her before turning around and taking a few steps back, observing them with a hawk eye. _

_Kate returned to Gina the look she was giving her before turning towards Castle, telling him with a smile "I'm fine really, thank you. It happens a lot actually. It was very nice to meet you, _Castle._"_

_She extended her hand, waiting for him to take it. When that didn't happen, disappointed, she slowly brought it back to her side and smiled shyly ready to walk away._

"_Gina?" he turned around towards the blond, "Take everybody's information. Tell them I'll send them an advance signed copy of the next Derek Storm book. I'll stay with Ms. Beckett and make sure this doesn't happen again. Better safe than sorry." With that he hooked her arm in his and walked her to the little coffee place on the upper level of the bookstore._

_She was seated at a little round table, hands folded over the table and she pulled down on the sleeves of her shirt covering her scars. What the hell was she doing right now? She was waiting for Richard Castle. How could she think this was a good idea? She hadn't used in the last couple of months. She was on the methadone, slowly weaving away from it, but she still craved them, everyday. She was an addict, always would be. As if dealing with everything else wasn't enough, did she really need to add a guy to the mix? She couldn't do it all. Dealing with all of it, it would be too much, she knew it, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. He was just so…_

_She was lost in her thoughts when he arrived flashing his perfect teeth. He set down the two cups on the table as he sat down, exclaiming, "Ginger tea and honey, my mother's cure for just about everything!"_

"_Thank you, Castle. But I really need to ask, why?"_

"_For one, I really get a kick out of pissing off Gina. We were married once, what a stupid decision, that was! Are you…" he asked as he tried to subtly check her ring finger._

"_I'm not," she laughed uneasily, "Very single, despite-"_

"_Good. Because you have no idea how messy dating married women is." He answered with a charming wink._

"_So this is what this is? A date?"_

"_I paid for your food, no? Isn't that the definition?"_

"_God Castle, you're so macho." She laughed as she rolled her eyes at him. _

_He genuinely smiled, thinking how absolutely adorable she was when she pretended not to be attracted._

"_Do I really look like trouble?" she asked._

_He laughed some more, "A ticking time bomb is what you look like."_

"_Yeah…" she smiled uneasily._

_He sensed the sore subject. "Hey, don't worry, I've got issues too."_

"_Yeah, right. I bet your life is _so_ hard right now."_

"_Being a ruggedly handsome, very successful and rich mystery writer had its downsides, Beckett."_

_She grinned, "Yeah? Like what?"_

"_The parties, the endless parade of women trying to sleep with me…"_

"_I'll stop you right there," she said as she clumsily got herself back on her feet. She didn't need this right now._

_He was quick to his feet and loosely grabbed her arm, "No, please, I was just joking. Stay."_

_He looked at her, his puppy dog eyes pleading, "Please sit back down. I'll be serious."_

"_I doubt that." She added, but sat back down._

"_You want me to tell you the truth?"_

_She nodded. _

"_I'm bored."_

_She grabbed the edge of the table ready to give herself the push she needed to get to her feet._

"_No! I mean, I'm tired of writing Derek Storm. It's not like it used to. I've talked to Gina about it, but of course she doesn't want me to kill off the golden goose. I just, I want something new and exciting."_

"_Like what?"_

"_I've always wanted to have a female lead. I've just never had the guts to do it. Women are so complicated," he winked at her and she laughed._

"_You know, like a badass detective or something," he added._

_She groaned and closed her eyes._

"_Bad idea?"_

_She shook her head, grabbing her stomach, "No. Something's not right."_

_He nodded and was quick to his feet, helping her up, "We better take you to the hospital. Do you want me to call anyone for you?"_

Back in the office, her breathing was hectic. She had to be remembering it wrong. It couldn't be.

"This can't be happening. This can't be happening. I need to talk to my dad. Please, please, please just let me talk to my dad."

* * *

**So, thoughts? Comments? Complaints?**

**You're probably still lost, next chapter should help.**


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